


Bloody Hands

by Butterfly



Series: Sandstorms [6]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-28
Updated: 2005-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-26 18:25:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/286498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfly/pseuds/Butterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel tends to go his own way. Jack finds that out the hard way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloody Hands

Samantha looked rattled when she left the tent, almost running right into Jack in her hurry to get away.

"What happened in there?" he asked, wrapping an arm around her. She was shivering.

"He's drunk, Jack," she said softly. "And he didn't want company."

Jack didn't really know what she wanted him to say. It was obvious why Daniel wouldn't want to talk to her. Daniel had made it very clear in the last three years that he was not looking to reimagine any friendships with strangers who just happened to look like his old friends.

Teal'c had been the only one that Daniel had seemed to respond to at all. Teal'c had even tried to explain it to Jack, once, something about how Teal'c apparently _was_ the same as the man that Daniel had known. Just at a different point in his emotional journey. Some bullshit like that.

But those two had actually become friends. And then Daniel had...

Fuck, Jack wasn't anywhere close to knowing how _he_ felt about the whole thing. He wasn't ready to explain Daniel's reactions to Samantha.

Samantha, who only ever wanted to help.

"I just..." Her voice was shaking. Jack leaned down slightly, dropped a kiss on her forehead. She sniffled, making Jack wish that he had a tissue handy. "I just really think that he needs someone right now."

"Did you- do you want me to try talking to him?" Jack offered. Even as he prayed that she would say no, so that they could go off and have sex in their own tent, like normal people, he already knew her answer.

"Would you?" She sounded so hopeful. God save him from women with high expectations. She pulled away from him and he looked down, meeting her gaze. "I just can't stand the thought of him beating himself up about it."

Jack gave her a nod, which she took as acceptance. She kept staring at him with that look and he realized that she wanted him to talk to Daniel right now. As in, she was going to watch him walk into the tent.

Crap.

So, he gave her a wide grin and then headed toward the lion's den.

Daniel's tent definitely stunk of the booze that the people here seemed to drink pretty much constantly, but, hell, it was always like that. There weren't any candles lit inside the tent, but it wasn't pitch-black. He could make out the motionless form of Daniel, lying sprawled out on one of the things that were the closest that they got to beds around here.

Jack stepped a little closer. Maybe Daniel was asleep. Or maybe Daniel would pretend to be asleep.

"Sam send you in?" Daniel said, each word sharp and distinct, popping Jack's hopes. "You should tell her to mind her own business."

"Samantha was worried about you. She asked me to check in." Jack said, carefully. He took another slow step forward. For the first time, he could see that Daniel hadn't cleaned up at all. It'd been hours, and he was still filthy. "She thought you could use a friendly ear."

"Friendly? That's a good one." Daniel chuckled, and Jack had to force himself to take another step forward instead of flinching back. He'd never heard Daniel laugh before and he was pretty sure that he could go for the rest of his life without hearing it again. "Hey, Jack, _friend_ , do you want to know what a good friend you've been to me?"

Before Jack could even think of an answer, Daniel pushed up, faster than fuck, and then he practically leapt off the bed-thing, slamming into Jack, knocking the breath right out of him as they hit the floor.

He was pinned down, Daniel's hands wrapped around his wrists, Daniel's weight trapping him in place.

"You taught me that," Daniel said in a low tone. "The Jack O'Neill that I knew wouldn't have been caught off-guard by an archeologist. But the Jack O'Neill that I knew spent all his time saving humanity. What did _you_ do all those years, Jack?"

"Ran my own business," Jack snapped. There had to be a way out of Daniel's hold, but he couldn't seem to find it.

"That's right. Some kind of boat thing," Daniel said dismissively. Fuck, Samantha must have said something. Trying to bond? Fuck. "You know, I could probably kill you before anyone could get in here, even if you did call for help. And let's face it, this Samantha Carter isn't up to killing a puppy, let alone me. She wouldn't be able to save you."

"And after you've killed me, you going to go after her, too?" Jack asked. "It's not going to _help_ anything, you twisted fuck."

Daniel's mouth twitched and he was looking about six inches from just snapping. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jack did not want to deal with this.

"Hey, what's a little killing between friends?" Daniel said lightly, his mood shifting way too quickly for Jack's comfort. He let go of Jack's wrists and then stood up, all in one graceful movement, and then he held a hand down, towards Jack.

Jack let Daniel help him up, looked the smug asshole over for a moment, then hauled off and punched him in the face. Daniel staggered backwards, looking pained but not all that surprised.

"Jack O'Neill was one of the best men that I ever knew," Daniel said, sounding slightly muffled. Jack looked away, over at Daniel's desk, which was, as always, neat and tidy. Nothing was ever out of order in Daniel's tent. Nothing was ever _real_ in this tent, it seemed to Jack. "No, that's not right."

Jack looked back over at Daniel, who was staring down, seeing God knew what. He must have touched his face at some point, because he had fresh blood on his hands.

"Jack... could be an ass. He was one of the most irritating men that I have ever known." Daniel's voice was soft now, almost reverent. "He played dumb, he played rude. He could be frustrating beyond belief." Daniel looked up, pupils huge in the darkness of the tent. He smiled at Jack, a soft smile, full of secrets. "And everyone who served with him respected the hell out of him. Jack was... brilliant and brave and a true hero."

Jesus.

"You, on the other hand," Daniel said, his smile twisting just enough to look downright cold. " _You_ are wasted potential. That Samantha Carter out there? She'll never blow up a sun. _You_ will never be a general. You'd never impress the Asgard. You wouldn't have survived Baal. You are not _Jack_ and you are _not_ my friend. Now get the hell out of my tent."

Without even bothering to look, Daniel reached out and snagged a flask from the table next to him, immediately downing some of whatever was inside. Probably more of the local booze.

Jack turned around and left, hoping that Samantha wouldn't press him to try again.

He wasn't sure that he'd survive another heart to heart with Daniel Jackson.

 __

the end


End file.
